Fixing the Narrative
by See More Glasses
Summary: A story obsessed Demon travels to Sunny Dale to investigate the rumors of a slayer returned from the dead. After observing her life he decides she should die and he should be the one to do it.
1. Waiting

The school basement was hot and damp and warm and made Buffy feel as if she was dying. Which, ironically, wasn't as threatening of a feeling as it would be to, well, any other person who inhabited the galaxy. The once white walls still had ash hanging off of them and once blue school lockers were black and the metal covering was peeling off, much like metal shouldn't.

"Ah the memories." Buffy kicks at the foot of a locker and a sound echoes through the school that sounded as hollow as she felt.

A blonde haired man, familiar, stuck out in the corner of the end of the hallway she was walking.

"Buffy? What the hell are you doing here?"

"What?" She said, miffed, having felt a quick pulse of excitement upon seeing Spike, "That's all I get? I clawed my way out of the grave and all I get's a hello?"

"Well, I would lay you down and pound you back into heaven but I dun wanna get staked."

"You're a pig." She said, however her accustomed disgusted attitude when dealing with him had transformed into a mildly amused acceptance.

"Honestly, Buffy, I would get upon my knees and sing hallelujah to your angelic form if I thought it'd do any bit of good, but that grave you crawled out of is still on your shoulders, weighing you down. You're deader than I am."

"What?"

Spike sighed, mocking, "It was a pun luv. Grave, depressed. Crack a book."

"Oh, right, poet. It's easy to forget."

"And a damn good one mind you. Well I was, I suppose, just don't got the heart for it anymore." He beat his chest and spread his fingers apart to signify how small his heart was now.

Buffy giggled but her heart still ached. Vampire Spike, standing now in the hallway, his long leather coat blending in with the dark, decaying school, looked to her like the most alive thing she had seen since returning from the dead.

She walked over to him, "So, what are you doing here?"

"Same thing as you I'd s'pose. Having a stake out."

As they turned the corner a shadow exited the gaping hole that now acted as the school doors and exited and merged into the sillhouette of the town as it stood against the pale blue of the sky underneath lightened by the full moon.

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Underneath that same sky Buffy's friends, those who had retrieved her from the dead, are hanging out in the grave yard. The grey tombstones are the only bright thing in the dead area, everything else was hidden in night's all welcoming embrace.

Three people sat huddled around a grave that had the words JACKY BOY carved into it. Beneath was a very unthought out epigram,

JACKY BOY LIVED HIS LIFE  
THE SAME WAY HE DIED,  
BUT WE WOULDN'T KNOW  
AS WE'VE NEVER MET THE GUY.

"Jacky Boy? Who writes a nickname on a tombstone? I mean, I'm the first guy gung-ho about relieving by the comedy but these guys took it to a whole new level It's disgusting, this whole no revering the dearly, or you know, not quite that dearly, deceased " Xander was sitting on the grave stone, swinging his legs irrelevantly back and forth, knocking them against the granite surface. For those unfamiliar with his appearance he was a young man, black haired, around the 20 year old mark.  
Willow, slender, red-haired, was leaning against the fence parallel to the gravestone. She had her arms folded and Xander got the chills whenever he looked into her eyes now. But, being a good friend, he would never mention it to either her or himself. "Yeah," She said, too sardonically for Xander's taste, "A lot of irreverence going around."

Giles was standing, forming a triangle, to the side, his hands in his pockets. He looked, once again for the uninitiated, as exactly you'd expect a professor to look. Tweed Coat, matching pants, loafers, and a pair of glasses that happened to always catch the moon just right to give them a superior than though look, "There's nothing to be done about it Willow. You did what you felt you had to do. No body in the history of the world has ever done any different. Buffy died doing what she felt right, and you, following that same impulse, solidified her ethereal form."

"Wuh? What the hell was that teacher? There's no one to impress here. 'Solidified her ethereal form'. That's..." Xander stopped talking as he looked from Giles to Willow's solemn and tired looks, "Right. Not the time."

Willow sighed and Xander, looking at her look up at the stars, the pale moonlight highlighting or simple beauty, could appreciate the woman she had become. Slender, strong, and the melancholy only added to her beauty, "The thing is, Giles, I'm not sure it WAS the right thing to do. I can't remember if it felt right. What if I was just having trouble letting go? Everyone goes through that. It's like I hit the bargaining stage of dealing with grief and I thought, wait a second, I don't have the bargain, I am more powerful than God, I'll just bring her back " Willow raised her hand and allowed that magical current that flowed through her release and a fountain of black sparks shoot into the sky. The lights lit her face ominously, "I scare myself."

Giles approached her, "If you'd like, I know people who can help."

She turned away from him, "No, that's ok. If I'm strong enough to beat life I'm strong enough to handle some trifling emotions."

"There's nothing trifling about the human heart." He placed his hand comforting on her shoulder.

Willow scoughs and the sound is so opposite from the shy girl to whom Giles was accustomed to that he was startled. She tore away leaving his hand stranded, compassion rejected, "Don't go after school special on me Giles. I've outgrown that." She waked back over to the fence facing the grave and leaned against it, "You guys go on, I'll take this vamp if he shows."

Xander and Giles looked at each other, then Xander spoke to Willow, "I mean, I know your uber wicca now and all but you're not the slayer. I mean, sometimes Buffy even has trouble with the little ones if they get in a lucky punch or two. You'll need back up."

She closed her eyes as if all this small talk annoyed her and she crossed her arms again, "No I don't. I'm stronger than Buffy. I'm probably stronger than any slayer...ever. There's just something on my mind and...alone would be good."

"Alright," Giles said, "We'll go."

"I tell thee no " - Xander,

"Xander, she's right. I am well versed in slayer lore ("duh") and there no attribute to any girl that could match what I've seen Willow do. And, furthermore, if my scholarly instincts haven't failed, there's more that Willow can learn, maybe even noting she can't."

"Alright. But Will, if he so much's as hints at having the upper hand, run. Run like helicopters."

"That's sweet Xan, but we won't be using helicopters. I'm not going to fight with my hands anyway."

"Huh? What're gonna do, latin him to death?"

"I'm going to burn him with my eye lasers."

"What, seriously?"

Willow laughs and as she cracks so does that feeling of wrongness that Xander has when looking at her, "Go, please. I'm really the muscle here anyway, you guys are just the pretty face, and, as much as I love looking at you two, you're not needed. Go home, get some beauty sleep, don't want to lose the one function you have."

Now walking down the abandoned Sunny Dale streets Xander and Giles pass brick houses with lights turned out. The city, like the graveyard, appeared dead.. Xander turns to Giles, "I'm worried about her."

"There is reason for concern."

"Yeah. I mean, I still love her, but she used to have trouble looking you in the eye, you know? She was so sweet, and, and she giggled when she got ice cream nose "

"What?"

"I mean...I'm just worried. I'm worried I'm losing her, that's all. Like she's outgrowing me."

"She's outgrowing life."

"...I'm going to go talk to her." He leaves Giles and heads back to the cemetery.

Giles looks down at the cement, his face furrowed, his mind trying to work out a problem he can't even identify, "Yes, that would be best."

In the cemetery a shadow sits, waiting, intrigued by the scenes he sees, and wonders amusingly to himself, how it will play out and what his part will ultimately be. He had made up his mind; this scene was just way too interesting not to have a part to play.


	2. The Menace Revealed!

The night was cold. Wind blew across the cropped grass feeling as desolate as wind over desert sand. Gnarled tree branches twisted their pleading wood like hands towards a starless sky. Only the moon shown through, casting a pale light across the grey tombstones; they were dull monuments unfitted as markers for the brilliance of the lives laid beneath them.

The demon, sensing it was his moment, stepped out from the tree line and approached the Witch who did not see him until he was just a few feet away. Her eyes widen in recognition of the threat and throwing her hands forwards shot at him balls of fire. He waved his hands and they disappeared.

"What are you?" She asked, her face opened at the horror of the discovery of a new, threatening power.

"That's funny." He spoke, his voice a low growl. It was menacing to the ears, amplified by the humor dwelling in it, "I was going to ask you the same thing." Willow through more energy at him as she backed away and with a wave of the hand they disappeared. The demon held up his red hand that had fingers calloused and twisted. There, on his pointy finger, was a ring with a yellow gem in it, "Convenient plot device #1. Nullifies magic."

Testing his comment Willow lets go to the full extent she could; the force knocking her down and through the white fence that she was previously leaning on. She stood up, wooden pickets falling off her, only to see the demon still standing. He smiled teeth of brilliant white, "I see waves, black as nothing, wafting from you. If I didn't find it so amusing I might be scared."

She says a few words in Latin and a thin veil of energy surrounds her. The demon approaches and Willow stands fast against her own fear. Reaching a hand out it comes into contact with the bubble, causing ripples like a pebble in a pond, "I'm curious. This little ring I have, is it just defensive?" His hand slides through the shield and that devil hand of his closed with relish around her neck. "How easily I could kill yo-"

Xander, having returned out of concern for Willow's mood, saw this monstrous demon approaching menacingly towards Willow and started running, being guided by desperation, his heart truly unable to see his life without his friend. So, by the time the demon was contemplating how easily he could squeeze her to death, Xander had ran to them and had put all his growing weight into tackling the Demon. Caught unawares the force of the blow knocked him to the earth and Xander landed on top.

The Demon was still unconcerned and he lifted Xander up into the air and tossed him at the feet of Willow. Then they both picked themselves up.

"Marvelous! I knew it when I saw you, I knew I could count on you! The spirit of man faced with the dark, does he run? No! He charges the dangerous unknown and fights off the menacing shadows with but the light of his own heart. God I love you!"

Xander and Willow say nothing but stand watching, steady but unsure of their next action.

"Oh I could kill you both right now. But," He bows, "You played your roles well and I have other scenes to participate in. So for now," He tips his long, cowboy styled hat at them, "Adios."

Then he turns and strolls confidently away.

Clouds pass over the moon's surface.

Xander puts his arms around Willow's shoulders; She rests her head on him; They stand together, watching the demon disappear into the night.


	3. Devils and Poetry

Buffy and Spike were now inside the crypt that Spike called home. The walls were lit by candles and the flickering of the flame felt much more ominous and creepy than Buffy was used to.

"Place gives me the shivers." She wrapped her arms around her body and began to rub.

"Put your coat back on then." Spike's voice came from below; he had descended down through the hole in the center of the tomb that held most of his personal belongings.

"I can't! It's got vampire dust all over it!"

"Not my fault then."

"Nobody said it was."

"Where the bloody hell is it!? Get the cravings for a damn drink and there's no bottles!"

"Everything all right down there?"

Spike emerged from the hole climbing up a ladder, "Yeah, I s'pose. Drank all the liquor, though, so I can't provide much in the form of entertainment."

"Aren't you mister hosty guy. Not much for the alcohol of the non-rubbing variety anyway."

Spike sat down beside her on the small bench that was pushed against the wall. He looked at everything but her and so did she. Their not quite friendship had now evolved into a not-quite relationship and neither knew how to deal with it.

"So!" Buffy said, unable to deal with the silence anymore, "I wanna hear more about the poetry."

"What?"

"Speak some pretty words!"

Spike also dived too enthusiastically into his role; he stood up and twirled around to face her and as he spoke his movements were graceful and exaggerated, all done so in an effort to entertain the slayer, "Well, I'll have you know poetry isn't just about the pretty words. It's about the heart. Those invisible non-material things that matter most of all! Would you like a rhyme?

I went down into the hole,  
Looking for some booze;  
I couldn't find my goal,  
And now my crypt's a snooze!"

Buffy laughed, "Boo! I want real poetry! With the love and sparky things!"

"Alright then; I'll give you my best:

Shall I compare the too a summer's day?  
Thou art more lovely and hotter.  
If dying is like a roll in the hay,  
I'll line'em up for the slaughter!"

"That's disgusting." Buffy stood up, making for the door, "If you're not going to take it seriously, I'm leaving."

Spike ran to get between her and the door with much haste, "Look, alright? That thing I said about heart, it wasn't a lie. Poetry's gotta come from the heart and unless you got the hankering to hear about blood, blood, or blood not much else is on my mind...ever."

"...There's nothing else you could rhyme about?"

"Well..." As he spoke next a powerful glance came into his eyes and Buffy, though seeing it, didn't acknowledge it, "There is one other thing."

A knock thudded against the stone crypt and startled Buffy and Spike. Standing there, leaning against the door, was a demon dressed like a cowboy ahead of his time. He wore a large, exaggerated cowboy hat, a long brown leather coat, brown pants and boots. His face, though hidden beneath the shadows of the darkness of his hat was red and bumpy in all the wrong places; he looked very sinister. "A poetic undead. How beautifully ironic. Funny" He began to walk forward, slowly, unafraid, "I always thought poetry needed soul."

Spike had changed to his vamp face in reaction to the charged atmosphere he felt, "Soul's are irritatingly over rated." Spike jumped at the demon only to find himself flung against the side of the wall.

"Vampire's...They never know when their story is over. And the same could be said for you, Slayer."

"You don't want me. I've killed Gods."

The demon smiled, those white teeth of his catching whatever moonlight that found its way into this dank hole of a home to glint in the darkness,

"How's your record against Devils?"


	4. Clint Eastwood

Giles was just filling up a nightcap to relax when the door of his apartment was opened so hard that it slammed against the wall. Xander and Willow barreled in with Xander quipping,

"Geez Giles. All kinds of creepies creepin' around Sunny D and you still don't lock up? Didn't your parents teach you any better?"

"What's wrong?" He said, noting their dirtied appearance, "Was it the Vampire?"

"Puh-lease. Be smarter Sherlock. It was something else."

"Well, what was it?"

"Demon," Willow cut in, her eyes starring at the floor, "Bad Demon. Big bad." Xander laid her gently down on the chair.

"Well you killed him I assume."

"No." She said, her eyes despondent, "He could nullify magic. Just swatted it away like...like it didn't exist."

"How?"

"I...I don't know. A gem of some kind, yellow. Looked like the ring Buffy sent off to Angel. Do you know of anything like that?"

"Thousands. I mean, there was a time in the middle ages where crafting mystical weapons was a fad. But...able to nullify magic? That kind of supernatural power is...well, unprecedented."

"Like a super super power?" -Xander.

Giles looked at him for a brief moment before returning to that which was important,  
"The demon, what did he look like?"

"Like Clint Eastwood with bad skin...Huh, I guess like Clint Eastwood. Just red. He was a few spurs away from saying, 'Go ahead punk, make my day."

"Wrong movie." Willow said, "He wasn't a cowboy in that one."

"Well, way to just ruin my joke."

"We need to focus you two." Giles said, mildly scolding them, but in truth he was pleased to hear Willow share in on Xander's nonsense, "Willow you call Tara, get her and Dawn looking through what you have there. I'll go get the books, Xander, care to help?"

"No. But having the spine of a jelly fish I will. And for Buffy, we should really look into getting her a cell phone."

"Well, I sent her to the school, but she should be back by now. She must've decided to patrol. There's nothing much we can do."

"Well, we should warn her!"

"We'll only put her at a disadvantage if this thing does confront her. We won't be useful until we know more. Buffy can protect herself."

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Buffy's soft flesh scraped against the tombstone's granite surface, turning it red, from the force of the Demon's throw. She hit the ground hard and her spaghetti arms worked very slowly in picking herself up.

"What God did you kill?" The Demon asked, "If I wasn't well informed I would assume you weren't the slayer. What's wrong?"

Spike, not willing to wait through the taunting, ran towards the demon. He moved to swing a fist but his opponent caught his arm, twisted it behind his back, lifted him above his head and then tossed him away.

"Why are you doing this?" Buffy asked, her shallow, heavy breaths catching the blood dripping down her face and spitting them out as she talked.

"I'm just the tool. The Deus ex machina, if you will. I'm setting things right."

"What's wrong?"

"You're not supposed to be alive."

Buffy felt a recognition in her heart that didn't allow her to argue; and she realized suddenly it was why she wasn't fighting back. She couldn't use her full strength against the will of the universe; a will that nagged at her, speaking soft whisperings of a death that should be hers. "Fine. Whatever. You want to kill me. Do it. What do I care? All my life it's been about protecting the world, doing what was right. Why should I stop now? KILL ME!"

The demon paused, caulking his head to give audience to an amusing thought, then said, "Meet me here tomorrow night, we'll do it then. Your life was an important one slayer. Find your heart so we can do this right."

Spike was about to lunge again. The Demon turned and held up a finger, "Vampire. I swear to God if you attack me again I will rip your head off." Then he waltzed, once more, out of our heroes' sight.


	5. Spiked Therapy

The overwhelming feeling of rage led Spike to walk through the dark, dead streets of Sunny Dale and into Willie's Place. As he pushed open the door and stood the demons in the bar one by one began to become silent with anticipation and dread. Spike relished it, this sort of acknowledgment was sometimes more gratifying than blood.

Willy was a small man made seemingly smaller by his cowardice. He was at the bar, wiping down a glass when he said, "Hey Spike, how ya doin' buddy? Can I offer you a drink?"

"Funny you should ask." He replied in a low, feral growl, "You got anything in demon?"

Those words acted like a gunshot would act at the start of a race. Chairs were urgently clattering to the floor as the inhabitants of the bar were on their feet with excitement and fear spurring them on. A demon at the bar, a vampire, black hair, leather jacket, total wannabe was the first to speak, "You can't take us all, why even bother. Go back to kissing the slayer's ass."

Yes! Those words were delightful to Spike as he moved with so much celerity that half of the bar didn't even see him close the distance between himself and the Vampire; he wrapped his fingers around the vampire's neck and lifted him up off the ground.

"You know, I'm starting to feel a little disrespected and it's irritating. I have the bad luck of becoming the guinea pig for some patsies and all of a sudden I'm the butt of some horrible bloody cosmic joke. Well I'm not laughing!" He closes his hand around the Vampire's neck until his fingers pierce flesh and the head pops off like a champaign cork; the body showers him in dust.

He turns to face the demonic audience and smiles a taunting smile, "Anyone got a drink?" Then he jumped into his fray.

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Giles was sitting at his table, reading over a book about mythological artifacts when Xander spoke up from the phone, excited,

"Hey! Hey, I think I got something!"

He looked on expectantly as Xander continued,

"Anya said she met a demon once, obsessed with stories and the like." He put his ear back to the phone, "Says he was like a total geek. She says I remind her of hi- HEY! That is so totally not cool! You have a passing knowledge of comic books and the- ok, yeah, maybe I do have a little more than passing - right, ok, you can stop now! Demon guy, mortal danger, chop chop! Says she tried to curse him once; that he killed one of the husbands of her patrons. She said it didn't work."  
Giles spoke, "How long ago was this Xander?"

"Anya, how long ago was this? Oh, really? You know, it's easy to forget just how old yo-...she hung up. Well that's just rude." He put the phone back on the receiver, "So that helps, huh? I helped? How awesome is that? Hey Willow, I was useful."

She was reading a book in the chair Xander had placed her in, "That's surprising hun. Would you call and check up on Tara for me, see how they're faring?"

"Sure can do. You know, we should get you a nickname Willow, you being super witch and all. How about Wicca Woman? Or, the wonderful wicca wrestler...woman. Something with a lot of w's."

"Xander, focus. Call Tara." Giles mildly scolded but he could see what Xander was doing; he was trying to keep a connection paved between him and his friend when the road between their hearts was rapidly being closed off. It was admirable and very, very sad.

"Yeah alright. What about you Big W, any luck on the ancient artifacts?"

"Well a few. There's this artifact of-"

"Let me stop you there. These artifacts always have some random, ancient sounding name that means nothing to me. So don't even bother, it won't stick. Get to the cream filling would ya?"

"Oh bugger off."

Xander shrugged and picked up the phone to start dialing as Giles bent his head back to the book. Willow, on the other hand, had started staring out the window and into the night,

"I wonder where Buffy is?"

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Spike lifted his head to take a breath, green blood dripping from his protruding fangs. The ex-demon hulk he was on top of was the donator of that blood. He stood up and took stock of the bar that was now full of ex-patrons, he felt satisfied enough where even the humiliation of the night was a distant thought.

"Spike?" Willy asked, afraid.

Spike stood up and strode confidently out of the bar, pausing only once to phantom lunge at Willy, causing him to cower back, quaking with fear.

"Yeah, whose bad."


	6. Conversations With Not People

Buffy has felt so impersonal to all the world around her lately that it was fitting that she would find her only solace in granite,

"Hey mom."

She sat down in front of her mother's tomb stone and crossed her legs. She placed a wooden stake beside her; graveyards, she had learned, was the place where a good woody would help you the most.

"Hello perverted mind, it's been awhile since I've seen you." She took a deep breath and let it slowly exhale, "So, mom, sorry I've visited you not so much lately. Well, at all, really. Kind of feeling grave myself." She giggled, "Spike's right, that is a pretty good pun. Oh yeah, Spike, you know, he's not so evil anymore. Well he's still got all the soul of a Vanilla Ice album but, you know, it's his heart...metaphorically speaking, 'cause it's a shriveled. Wow, I'm blowing this moment, huh? You know I miss you, a lot, when I'm not being totally self-obsessed anyway, and it blows that I'm like that, like, it's totally immature and selfish and I just don't know how to set it right. You know, you use that R word often enough it kind of loses it's meaning. Hah That's totally an Angel thought, all philosophistic...and I'm trying way too hard. Oh Dawn's still alive. I saved her, pretty cool huh? Sacrificed my life and everything. And...that topic feels like a downer. But what's not, y'know?"

Buffy turns around and lays down where her head is laying next to the tombstone that reads "JOYCE SUMMERS". She takes another deep breath and let's it exhale,

"Got my ass kicked today, that was so not fun. Not only that, but I got my ass kicked by a rodeo clown reject. Well, demon anyway...

I wonder, is it sad that laying here feels more like home than anywhere I've been since I've returned?"

The low growl of the Demon who had been watching her from the trees spoke, surprising her, "Not sad at all."

Buffy, surprised, sits up, grabs her stake, and is on her feet with her body bent down and coiled, ready to spring, "Can't you count bozo? We don't fight 'til tomorrow, your idiotic schedule, not mine."

"I'm real sorry to bother you Slayer. I reckon that might sound ironic coming from me, but I am. I just had to talk to you, is that alright, and can I call you Buffy? Saying Slayer sounds...pedantic? Is that the word?"

"Uh..."

"It's just, I gotta know Buffy, what went wrong? I mean, what's it like to return from the dead? How do you feel?"

"Umm..."

"Can I approach?"

Buffy reaffirmed her attack posture to which the Demon responded:

"Hey Hey, come on now I really don't feel like fighting anymore tonight. I just...it's just that years have stretched while I've waited for the universe to choose me to be a part of something interesting. And here you are Maybe the most curious narrative the world has ever put together."

"Uh..."

"Oh I see; I think I just want to understand my place in this story. See which cog I am in this machine and maybe, if I learn how all the cogs work I can picture what kind of machine we are actually running here."

"Huh?" Buffy's posture had now slackened and the stake she was holding was dangling loosely in her grip.

"It's a simile. I was likening the universe to a machine and us to cogs. I was saying that by understanding the people in the universes I could perhaps understand what the universe's purpose is."

"Is today like national English day?"

"So, can I approach?"

Buffy, befuddled, shrugs, "What the hell."

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Giles had just found an interesting diagram inscribed in one of his title less books in his library, "Oh! Oh! Look at this! Is this your demon?"

Xander and Willow walked over and looked over his shoulder, "Huh. Kinda maybe. Add on a ridiculously huge hat and a poncho and I think you might have yourself a winner. Congratulations Giles. Your prize is a-"

"Still not the time Alexander."

"Woah! Hey! That's a cheap shot! So what's the skinny on the bad the ugly and the uglier?"

"Well, this is just a generic diagram of your normal Avergog demon."

"So this guy that just kicked Will's magic ass is just your run of the mill Aburgio demon?"

"Hey!"

"Avergog. And, well, yes, it would appear so. However, I've never been taught, or have ever seen, an Avergog to distinguish itself from the pack. They live, they eat, and they die."

Willow looks with a smirk over at Xander who in a preemptive defensive maneuver says, "You make the joke you're thinking of young lady and I will...well, I'll probably cry, so, ya, back off!"

The door to Giles' apartment gets kicked open and Spike stalks in, his black coat is flowing and ruffling with each step, "Buffy!" An pause of silence follows as they stare at each other, "Buffy's not here?" Giles, Xander and Willow reply in the negative with a slow shake from side to side, "I would have thought she'd come back here after the tussle."

"Tussle, what tussle?"

"Some bloody demon thinks he's John Wayne. I've met John Wayne and let me tell you, Wayne's prettier...well, I suppose not by much."

Giles takes off his glasses, a bit irritated, "My God, can no one focus around here? Is Buffy alright?"

"Well yeah, got her ass kicked good though. Demon left after delivering a beating going on about doing it right tomorrow."

"And Buffy, where'd she go?"

He had started pacing, agitated, "I have no sodding idea, but, ah blow this, I'm gonna go find her." He then turns to leave, and as he does so, Willow stands up, "I'm going with him."

"No."

"Giles, I can help."

"Willow, recent events would indicate you can't. I understand you're used to the magic by now, however, this demon, whatever it is, has proven that against him you're no more than the damsel in distress."

"But-"

"Getting yourself killed will in no way help anybody."

"Fine", She goes back to Giles' big chair and plumps down.

"However," He said, "I suppose a little locator spell wouldn't hurt."

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The Demon and Buffy found themselves sitting together, cross legged, facing Buffy's mother's tombstone,

"Mother?" The Demon asked,

"Yeah."

"What kind of demon got her?"

"The Life kind."

"Oh. That is the only thing more scary than us."

Buffy snorted, then there was a pause, and then she asked, "So what's your deal anyway?"

"I'm sorry. I pick up things pretty fast but I don't remember ever encountering that phrase before, what's it mean?"

"Umm, your story, why you do what you do."

"Oh. I suppose it's related to poker, 'your deal', what hand you're playing maybe? Seven duece."

"Huh?"

"My deal is seven deuce, I just happened to get lucky on the flop."

"Please stop with the nonsense. It's hard enough to make sense of things without people puking random words and calling it a sentence."

"Right. Well, I was created wrong. I had more sensibilities than those of my kind. They wanted to eat, eat, and eat, and they wanted to do it alone. Flesh, blood, the death of mortals, that's what they all wanted; me, I just wanted some friends, a life, I wanted to feel. But mischievous life, who created me with these wants, provided no way to obtain them. I became depressed and I have no idea how much time passed. Then, one day, I saw Hamlet."

"Who's that?"

"It's a play, Shakespeare."  
"Oh. You know for a dead bald guy people sure do mention him a lot."

"Yes, well, it was beautiful, it was the first time I ever felt connected to anything, and it was from a mortal. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that man can feel the same despair I felt. I became obsessed with the stories men tell one another. After you read enough, and see enough, you see the same threads run through every story and, by extension, existence."

"And you want to kill me because of that?"

"Yes, I suppose. Silly, isn't it? But I truly believe I can feel the will of the universe coursing through me, that the depression I felt was only an extension of my awareness I didn't belong, that I had other things to do. So my life consists of sitting and waiting until something strikes me worth doing."

"And I'm worth doing?"

"You, Buffy, are the thing I find worthiest of doing."

Buffy begins to laugh and that confuses the Demon, "What did I say?"

"I'm sorry, it's not you, it's my perverted mind. It's all like, Argh! I will twist the words you hear to make them sound sexual!"

"Oh. Well...hey, I don't suppose you'll tell me you're story? It seems fair."

"Do you have all night? Well, it all begins with a stuffy Watcher and a silly little prophecy..."


	7. Going Home

The sun's rays were just clawing their way up from behind the horizon when Buffy was walking home from her graveyard chat. Her mind was mulling over some parts of her conversation with the Demon,

_ "And Rosy Fingered Dawn arises from behind the dead sky, giving life to the darkness." He said, standing up, "And it's time for this villain to take his rest for tonight's showdown. I'm very glad to have met you Buffy." _

_ "We don't have to do this." She had replied, "Life goes on without interference." _

_ "Oh but that's not true. The darkness needs a slayer to champion the light and beat it back and the universe needs an editor to keep the plot lines from becoming messy. Don't you feel the call to return to the grave Buffy? Dirt is your home and you've been a runaway for long enough, it misses you Buffy, it wants you back and it longs for you as much as you long for it." _

_ "I won't let you kill me without fighting back; I can't do that to them." _

_ He turned and smiled a curious smile, "Them, your friends? Interesting. As they say, 'Rage, rage against the dying of the light'. I'd be mighty disappointed if you didn't fight. So tonight, bring your friends and your feelings and I'll bring mine and we'll let life decide whose story is worth continuing." _

During her musing a yellow light zipped in from the horizon and started hovering in front of her chest. She bent down to get a closer looked and to her surprise it popped out of existence.

From the opposite direction Spike with a brown cover draped over his head came jogging up, "Buffy! You alright? Where've you been?"

"Just chatting with the devil. Surprisingly talkative."

Then, from the same direction as the yellow light came jogging Willow, Xander, and Giles, "Buffy!"

"Yeah, hey guys."

"Is everything alright?"

"Kind of, I'm just really tired. I need to get some sleep for tonight."

"What's tonight?"

"Big showdown at the K.O. Corral."


	8. Spiked Therapy Part 2

As the group of humans made their way home like a herd heading back to their pen the vampire stood, a brown lump on the flat street lined by suburban homes, watching them go. Finally, realizing something was awry, they stopped.

"Spike?" Buffy asked.

"Hey, don't worry about him, you know Vampire's, aint no telling what thought isn't running through their heads." Xander said.

Buffy walked towards him, concerned, "Is everything alright?"

"I'm a bit pissed you're actually going to show up for the gunfight."

"It's all a part of the schedule." She joked, but looking into her eyes Spike saw something dark and familiar.

"It doesn't have to be."

"Huh?"

"This demon, this cow jerkoff that gets his wet dreams from riding horses and wearing giant hats, he isn't dangerous."

"I have a few bruises and know a vampire rag doll that would disagree."

The sun's rays had begun to reach out and brush the area where Spike was standing, very small streams of smoke began to snake off of the cover.

"Spike..." She said, concerned, "Let's go inside."

"No."

"Spike, this isn't the time. I'm tired, I'm bruised, and I don't have time to sort out your problems, we'll do this later."

"When you're dead? He's going to kill you. I can feel it in my heart I -"

"What heart?"

Spike grabs Buffy's shoulders, his brown coat beginning to sizzle as a piece of bacon sizzles when being cooked in the morning. Xander makes a move to intercept but Giles holds out an arm and shakes his head.

"Oh no, screw that. Spike's way out of line, this isn't the time for one of his hissy fits."

Spike, with hearing range, becomes enraged, his face turning into the bumpy fury of the Vampire, "You shut up boy! I get it, you have issues with power because you have none. Now back the hell off. I fought with you, all of you, even when Buffy was dead. I understand I'm a vampire but if you don't give me the benefit of the doubt here you're not even human."

"Spike, we have to get you out of the sun."

"If I burned would you? Would it take my ashes to finally wake you up from your eternal slumber? If you go like you are you're going to die. If you watched my pale skin catch fire like slips of paper thrown in on the barbecue, would you care? Do you want to find out?"

Spike threw off the coat, the climbing sun catching passionate flames on his skin. Buffy shrieks.

"How long do you think I have before the sun rises? I wonder if it's enough time to say what I have to. Buffy, this cowbloke only wants you. If you leave he's not going to go after sunny dale, or innocents, or whatever the hell it is you go on about. He isn't the darkness, but, I see it inside your heart. I told you once that every slayer has a death wish and your genie is getting ready for the third go around and you're not coming back from this one."

The fire exploded into existence on the back of Spike's hand as the sun's rays hit it in its path of ascension; Spike cried in pain for only a moment before he swallowed it; the fire in his hand became a little mole hill instead of the flaming mountain, "Let's go Buffy, let's just go."

"Spike," Buffy said, stifling her own kind of pain, "Please, don't do this. You're killing yourself."

"No Buffy, you're killing me. If I see you die again whatever bit of humanity left in me will die. It will burn me up inside like this- GAH!- like this goddamn sun is burning me up now. Come with me," He reached out his burning hand, "Come with me and be alive."

Like how the sun burns hydrogen internally to fuel itself so too did fires combust out of Spike's insides. With a piercing desperate scream Buffy rushed at Spike, grabbed him, and ran with him through the door of the Suburban home they were standing in front of. She began to frantically pat out the flames and then, to what her heart was a desperate eternity, they flickered and died.

"Oh God, you're ok." She grasped him as if actual life itself was housed in his chest, "You almost killed me."

"Well now that's a curious statement, hey, is my hair alright? I've seen some Vampires survive a burning and all their hair, poof, burned right off. Aint nothing uglier than a bald and bumpy."

"You're a jerk."

"So they tell me. And, did I get through?"

"I can't go with you Spike. I can't explain it but I have to see this through. And what's up with you, I thought you were all about the fight you can't win?"

"If I die it's just a body, died before; but if you die, then...not even the sun would be able to light a spark in me. I understand Buffy but...and- I would die for you, I know you know that, but I can't go along with this."

Buffy stands up and brushes the wood and dirt off of her, "I get it. And your hair, still gorgeous."

"Oh yeah, whose bad."


	9. Lochness Monster

The last bit of light what dimming when Buffy, Willow, and Giles showed up at the cemetery. Xander came trotting up from the other direction,

"How's Anya?"

"Strange and annoying."

"So where do you think this jerk is hiding at?"

At the far end of the cemetery was a plain hill unadorned by trees or gravestones; Buffy pointed to it, "There."

"Oh hilltop, given his penchant for drama it certainly does make sense." Giles said.

"Alright, let's go."

As they departed Spike stealthily slid into the group's fold, joining them on their walk. Xander turned, saw him, made a strange noise that was a combination of surprise and disgust, choked it down, and said, "That's really creepy."

"I thought you said you weren't going to watch this." Buffy asked with her statement,

"And I'm not. I got two good fists and I plan to use'em."

"Spike, what I said before about having to do this, I meant it, I do. Alone."

"Well that's a load of bollocks; this isn't some cheezy hollywood film, two more pair of fists won't hurt."

"I haveta to say I'm with fangy."

"Guys, it means a lot to me you'd do that but he'd kill you, all of you, and probably use your bodies as weapons."

"Well that's grotesque."

"Yeah, I'm not sure why I said that."

"Got the point across."

They stopped in front of the rising hill looking like five shadow puppets against a backdrop too large.

"So," Giles said, "You know the plan?"

"Yep, get the ring off of him and then let Willow work her mojo."

"Right, and remember, we're not positive if this demon's strength comes from the ring, and I'm not terribly curious to find out."

"Alright," Xander said, "This is the final set piece. Lights," He looks up towards the moon, "Cameras?" He looks around and then shrugs, "Aaaand..."

Buffy steps forward towards the hill to begin to make her way to the top, "Action."


	10. Hearts Afire

The Demon huff and puffed his way up the steep hill, bulging muscles and a strong will pulling him to the top.

"This location was a mistake." He said, appearing to Buffy from the opposite and much steeper side than she climbed, "Dramatic, sure, but..." He took a moment to breath and then stood up, inhaled and exhaled deeply and then shook it off, "Alright, so, you ready?"

Buffy had started stretching and she spoke with her head between her legs, "Yeah, sure, just give me a second to loosen up."

"Are you sure? This type of moment doesn't come very often in a person's life; I can feel the energy surging through the air, pulsating in my heart; I'm suddenly terrified that you can't."

"Well pardon me for not jitterbugging my way to the center of the ring; I do this sort of thing a lot."

The Demon let his long coat slide off of him and removed his hat to reveal a red bald head spiked intermittently with bumps, "Yes, I suppose you do."

At the base of the hill Xander looked on, "What's he doing? He's pretending like this is the great climax of Blood Sport 2."

Giles responded, "All the worlds a stage-"

And Spike, looking on with anxious terror waltzing in his dead eyes, corrupted the ending, "And all the men and women prisoners."

"Alright then" The Demon said, approaching Buffy, "Enough build up."

He started with two jabs towards her pretty blonde head which she avoided and countered with her own punch which was swatted away. Then, feeling more comfortable with the pattern, he swung hard at her head in a swinging hook which she ducked, and, seizing the opportunity, punched at his stomach; although the blow connected The Demon didn't seem to notice and, seizing her slender shoulders, threw her backwards and to the ground.

"You have the moves, I concede, but where's the FIRE?"

She climbed back to her feet methodically and bent down into a fighters stance. She took a few steps forward and began to exchange blows again. She punched his head, twice, with opposite arms and then sent a kick to his midsection that had created a hole in many a demon's stomachs to allow their decaying guts to fall out. The kick's momentum, though, didn't even have enough force to knock the demon out of fighting mode. He grabbed her foot, lifted her by it into the air, and swung her up and above his head. Seizing this desperate opportunity Buffy grabbed at the yellow ring which was so close to her face she could probably lick it. The Demon threw her but Buffy had grasped her hands around the ring and, for a moment, she felt some relief as the ring slid off his finger. The Demon grasped her hand as she was sailing and wrenched the ring away from her before she could cry "Willow" and shoved it back onto his fingers.

He let go of her hand, only to find Buffy, now more desperate, already on her feet and punching at him. Fending off the blows he found himself backed towards the edge of the hill. Not feeling the great desire to go tumbling down it he grabbed Buffy's wrist and used her momentum to twirl around her to position himself where his back was away from the edge.

Still not satisfied with her effort Buffy back flipped behind the Demon, grabbed his head, and began to twist. The Demon slammed his elbow into her face, spun around to face her, and laughed, "Effort. I'll give you effort."

But Buffy knew this was no time to talk and still feeling as if she had the momentum she charged with another flurry of punches and kicks that were formidable but not overpowering. The Demon, however, found them more annoying than he would like, so, in between the edges of the punches he shot his hand and squeezed his long bony fingers around her neck, "Enough!" He pulled her face close to his and, although she fought his grasp with all her slayer strength, no effort broke it, "Desperation doesn't suit you." He threw her to the other side of the hill.

"Swings, Swings, Swings!" He began, shouting so the audience looking on could hear, "There's no emotion behind them! A punch without feeling is like a joke without a punchline!"

"I really wish he would have chosen a different simile." Xander whispered to Giles.

"Looks like I'll have to leave disappointed after all." He began to march towards Buffy with purpose.

"How can you say there's no emotion?" She retaliated, "I swung into you like I was punching death; that was everything."

"No, it wasn't...but maybe that part of you just didn't return from the grave." And, now upon her, he brought down all his power onto her with a swing that crumpled her to the ground. Then, not feeling like putting off the inevitable any longer he brought his fist down again, a metaphorical hammer beginning to nail Buffy once and for all in her coffin.

At the bottom of the hill Spike and Xander shared one horrified look and sprinted up towards them. Giles took one concerned glance at Willow and then followed them.

The Demon had his fist up to swing again when Spike jumped on his arm, wrenching it behind his back. Xander, with as much effort as he could, began to punch. Giles, in the interim, made his way to Buffy to check her wounds; "Buffy?" He asked.

"Giles...I lost..." She looked up at him with a bloody face that wrenched his heart, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean..."

"No, no, shh, it'll be ok. I promise." He said, brushing her hair aside, and kissing her on the forehead. Then, gripping his sword in determination, turned towards The Demon as he shook Spike off him and hit Xander once across the face, knocking him to the ground.

Giles said nothing but his determined face, despite the Demon's obvious strength advantages, worried the other worldly being. He swung at him, once, but the blow was deflected.

"This is touching but it's not your scene!" The Demon said but then, afterwards, he had to fend off another sword swing. This time the blade cut the skin and green blood began to flow. He cried out.

Xander picked himself up and made his way over to a now weeping Buffy, "Hey Buff."

"Xander, I'm, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean..."

"Shh, alright, hey, no worries; so the big bad and bumpy gave you a few good licks, no bigs. But you're Buffy and we have your back, always."

"But...he's right. I really don't feel anything...I'm trying desperately to prove he's not right but it's my heart it's just...empty...And no matter how hard I try to pump in some feeling it stays dry. And you all were counting on me...I"m so sorry."

Behind Xander Spike had joined in Giles' war against the Demon. They were keeping him occupied well.

"Hey, look at me Buffy." Xander had bent down and cupped her chin in his hands, moving her head so she would look from the fighting behind him to him, "Don't be sorry, please. Do you want to know why we brought you back from the dead? Look, everything good in my life that has ever happened to me is because of you. I mean, sure, sometimes people die,"

"Like Jesse?"

"Yeah, like Jesse but that isn't your fault. I got together with Cordelia, met my fiancé, got to watch my best friend grow from a nerd into this super awesome powerful witch, and found some grumpy old British guy who would do for me what my real father can't."

"Bu-"

"Come on let me finish. What I'm trying to say is that you don't just keep the Vampires at bay Buffy; not just the demons or the puppets or whatever the hell else is out there that goes bump in the night, you keep the darkness at bay. All of it. All that terror of life that is creeping around the edges waiting to devour everything we believe to be good, and true; the misery, the pain, the doubt, you beat it all back Buffy, just by being who you are. I told you once you were my hero, Buff, so don't be sorry, because you only have something to apologize for if you're wrong, and heroes always do the right thing."

"Thank you X-" Buffy began but The Demon, having shaken off both Giles and Spike, had stalked his way over to behind Xander. Green blood was spilling from his face contorted in rage. He drew back his fist and with a malicious blow shoved it through the back of Xander and tore through the insides to protrude out the other side.

Buffy screeched a horrible, young girl screech that she had seldom before let out.

"The spirit of man is so fragile." The Demon sneered and withdrew his hand.

Xander looked down in shock, his brain still trying to register the pain, his mouth moving to find something to say but for the first time in his life having nothing. Buffy paused for just a moment after her scream died and Xander crumpled to the ground, his hand trying to cover the gaping hole where his stomach used to be.

Buffy scooped him up in her arms but the Demon latched onto her neck, pulled sharply backwards, and slammed her to the ground. Xander fell, twitching intermittently.

"This ends."

Spike was back on the hill and, seeing the desperate situation, grabbed the demon and pulled him off of Buffy. Giles joined him and they once more began to fight. Buffy, aware she was no longer contained, scrambled to her feet, cradled Xander to her, and began to slide, slip, and stumble her way down the hill screaming, "Willow! Willow! Willow!"

Willow ran to her, "Oh God." She began to cry simultaneous to her realization of what was happening.

"Fix him." She commanded, laying Xander gently on the ground.

"I'm not sure if I...I mean- Buffy, I..."

"Willow please, you have to be able to do this. You brought me back from the dead, fix him!"

"The magic is different, it's, the magic to bring you back was destructive and, to heal, I need - Oh God!" She cried out and began to cry nearly hysterical. She brought her hands instinctively up to her face.

Buffy grabbed her wrist, "Willow," She said, in tears herself, "I need you to fix him. Without you, all of you, this life, my life, means nothing. You can't break down Will, not now. Since I've come back I've been one bad morning away from giving up completely, from lying down on my bed and never getting back up. If he dies..."

Willow clenched her face in determination and the tears didn't flow as freely, "I'll do it. You're needed." She said, motioning her head towards the hill where the Demon has Spike and Giles on the defense.

Buffy charged up the hill pissed and as the Demon began to take a heavy swing at a stunned Spike she intercepted the blow. He pushed harder but she stood firm.

"Giles, Spike, thank you."

"Uh-" Spike began,

"Sorry to keep you waiting" Her voice was cold, much colder than her eyes filled with fire, "But I'm here now."

Then she attacked.


	11. The Kindness of Death

Willow's black snake of magic coiled inside her and struck at Xander; it caused a biting pain in his stomach. Willow cursed through the tears, breathed deep to provoke relaxation, and tried again. Desperation had taken up residence in her heart and tears flowed freely from her red eyes. Having rested Xander's head upon her closed knees the red blood which puddled from his wound beneath him had spread to cover the hem of her wicca dress.

He groaned and his agony was a mild death to her heart. She sprawled herself over his body, "I'm so sorry, I've let it corrupt me, I'm so...so sorry. Here...I can relieve you of the pain."

With a wave of her hand the hill, with Buffy fighting her Demon at the top of it, the cemetery sprawling out around them, a home for the dead, disappeared; only the white of pure non-material remained.

Xander bolted upright and climbed to his feet faster than a racer sprints from all fours at the sound of a gunshot.

"I feel great! Well that was 20 kinds of frightening...and painful, most definitely painful. Will, you darling, wonderful Witch, we should get you a medal. It won't be Gold because I'm two steps away from broke and will be three steps behind it after the wedding but you're wonderful, did I ever tell you that?"

Willow smiled a dagger smile while she listened and, at the end of the speech, she began to cry again.

"Oh, hey, it's alright now, look!" He punched his gut where the hole had disappeared, "All better. Now where the hell are we? No time to spare, eh, wonder wicca? That's a good one, right? Or is it too close to Wonder Woman? Food for thought, a well balanced meal for my junk food addicted mind. So, to the Buffster we go!"

"Xander." She said sternly, "You're dying."

"What? Don't be ridiculous, look at me!"

"This isn't real. This world, your body, an illusion."

"What?"

"You're still wounded, bleeding...dying."

"Oh."

The news was painful and stunning and he staggered forward and then sat next to his life long friend, "Now I have two holes in me. One in my stomach and one in my heart." It was a meek joke to win over insatiable despair.

"You know, the afterlife is a lot more bland than I thought. Yeah, yeah, I know, just an illusion. You could have done better for a man's dying moments you know?"

"Yes." She said, her voice stern and hard to prevent trembling.

"It's a shame Buffy's not here, I'm a little curious, I wonder what it'll be like. Do you think they'll have comic books? If there's no comic books in heaven I'm counting on you to bring me back. " He said smiling but fooling not Willow nor himself.

"Yes." She said again, weeping.

"I wonder if Jesus kept the beard?"

"Xander, stop."

"Huh?"

"It's over. All the pain and doubt, all those atrocities you fend off with jokes. They'll be gone soon."

"You're worrying me Will. Hey, best friends dying here, what, no tears?"

Then her strong defense was eroded by a river of grief and guilt and she sobbed and cried and rested her head against Xander's shoulder.

"Ask and ye shall receive, huh?"

"This is stupid. Here you are dying, and, I should be consoling you!"

"Ah, naa, I like it better this way. If I keep being strong for you maybe when I finally do the frog noises maybe I can handle it. So...this helps. This wait is killing me! How long do you think it will take?"

"Xander please! Look at me, am I as ugly as I feel? I feel corrupted, dirty. I had so much potential, so much goodness...and now, when I think back just a few years, I feel remorse for what I've let myself become."

"You do know you're the best person in the world, right?"

"Please, this isn't time for you to be kind, you're dying."

"Then I'll say how wonderful you are with my last breath, and I'll be sure to let non-bearded Jesus know how wonderful you are too...because I think I've settled on him shaving."

"I erased Tara's memory with magic." She said with the same gravity and pain as one would confess to a murder.

" Do you remember when I broke your doll in kindergarten and you hated me. That was pretty mean of me, dark even."

"What I've done is a dark sickness and it's infected me and I don't think there's a cure."

"I don't think we talked for months. You broke up with me because of that. That sucked."

"That was child's play."

"Ok, so it's not the same as mental rape, but I was a smallish fellow then and that haunted me until like, fourth grade. I felt guilty around you for years. And you may be wondering what this has to do with you and...well, eventually, don't remember when, what I did to you and that doll it was Borged into history. Sure, we never got back together, but, you know, what we ended up with is pretty great. Or is it was? What's the tense rules here?"

"Is is fine." They were leaning against each other, "You know I still had a crush on you, right?"

"Yeah, that sort of came up later, remember? I kissed you, my girlfriend got gut punched by some rebar...that left some psychological scarring. But it's kind of ironic on so many levels given current circumstances."

"I'm not sure that's what irony means."

Xander shrugs, "See, there's the old annoying Will, knows way too much." He paused and breathed as they sucked what cold comfort they could from the marrow of a dying life, "I think it's about time. So...one for the eternal road?" He said.

They kissed.

Willow realized something profound at that moment and she dissolved the illusion and succumbed to the gravity of the real situation. Xander's blood had reached her socks. He cried out weakly.

"Sorry, but you gave me something," She spoke while gathering up the goodness she felt from the kiss and channeling it towards her best friend, "Love, the conqueror of despair, as a gift in your kiss." Then, as the white emotion was transferred from her to him the hole in his stomach began stitch itself together like the hole in a worn shirt.

A few minutes of pain tortured him but, at the end, he sat up, his breath heavy. Once his mind raced up to the current situation he hugged Willow, "You're amazing!"

She helped him climb to his feet, "You've gained more weight than I realized."

He laughed a throaty, painful laughed and leaned against her.

Willow puts her arm around Xander's shoulders; he leans his weight on her. They stand together, watching Buffy and the Demon fight.


	12. It's Magic

Buffy's heart was so overflowing with the will to win that she was terrified that at any moment it would spill out and the unknown spring from which this inspiration sprang would dry.

Swing for swing she danced with the devil in the pale spotlight of a glowing moon back and forth across the silhouetted hill top. She punched with a grunt hard at his head and, although ducked, she saw the demon was off balanced; with a follow up blow she blew him into the ground.

"There. Satisfied now Mr...what was your name again?"

"Well now...seems like you got something again."

As he was picking himself up Buffy punched him again to the same effect as before,

"No. You don't get to be all, 'Finally the real you appears guy'. You want to know why? I'm pissed. And more importantly, I'm pissed at you."

"Well that's amazing." The Demon said with wonder as he picked himself up again. Buffy stood by this time, her flippant smile strained with the lingering emotional pain, "I feel scared. I've been ignored so long I've forgotten what it was like to be in the thick of life. To have your life depend on the moods of those around you...to be apart of something."

"Yeah, you know what? I don't care."

"Don't go thinking because you finally got yourself a little emotion that your fights will be magically won. I'm still strong...maybe stronger than you."

"Still not caring."

They began to fight again and although seemingly equally matched Buffy managed to grab the Demon's arm, stretch it behind his back, and snatch the yellow gem off of his finger. She pushed him away and started tossing the ring up and down in her hand like a black and white movie gangster would toss a coin,

"You know, for a long time now I've been uncertain. Am I a good person? Do I have a good purpose in this world? Is there any of the old Buffy left in me?"

The Demon made a lunged for the ring but his attempt was tainted with desperation and unthought out; Buffy punched him in the face, knocking him back,

"But that doesn't matter, at least not right now. Because for right this instance I know who I am, and you showed me."

"Yeah, and how'd I do that?"  
Buffy looked over at Xander and smiled, her heart warmed by gratitude and joy and love and all those wonderful things friendship brings,

"Because you're the darkness, and I'm the Slayer." She held the ring in front of her face and crushed it with a clench of her fist, "Willow, do it."

Willow, sensing this outcome had set Xander on the ground. She said some words in latin and the Demon became engulfed in a type of pale, yellow glow; it began to expand around him like a bubble slowly.

"Hah!" He looked down at it amazed, "I can't move. This is going to kill me isn't it?" Buffy looked at him with an expression of strained toleration, "I'm really terrified." The yellow bubble began to creep above his torso, "I don't feel wasted though. It feels...right. Is it because I'm dying it feels right or why I died? I'm sorry for some of the measures I stooped to, but I'm glad no serious harm was caused, I hope you believe that. Ah, it's at my chest, should I angle my head to talk longer? I've never really had much to say and now that I'm dying I feel like there's so much more to say! An infinite amount of words to absolve me of all unresolved emotions! Oh well. I don't suppose I could pester one of you into telling my tell? Horatio! Horatio! ...No? Wrong crowd? Oh well, no shame on you, I probably indulge myself too much in those things. Buffy, I hope you forgive me."

She watched on, oddly moved.

"Oh well. Come for me tomorrow and you shall find me a grave man."

"I've heard that one before." She said, not unsympathetically, and stepped closer to him.

"Yeah...But the tragedy of that line is I'm no man at all."

The Bubble had reached his head and closed at the top, freezing him in yellow. Buffy walked forward, withdrew her fist, and tearing up, shoved the fist through the bubble, raining it to the ground in a hail of yellow.


	13. Epilogue

It was the next night when Xander dragged Buffy and Willow back to the grave site of "JACKY BOY". They were standing, annoyed, in front of the gravestone.

"Are you sure this guy is a sharp and pointy? He'd totally be running around raising hell by now if he was."

"Look, arlight," Xander replied, "I saw the body myself. He'd been dinner."

"I don't know. Are you sure you're not just doing this so you don't have to sit home with Anya?"

"What! Things are great between us. It's just...you know, high stress factor right now. All this planning and plotting for the wedding. I've never been good at that sort of thing."

Buffy and Willow share a look, then she sighs, "Fine."

Giles is standing apart, leaning his back against the same fence Willow was thrown through two days before, sipping steaming tea from the cap of a thermos. Spike walks up from the other side and leans against it and scoughs:

"Looks like Buffy faced her Demon and every things all hunky dory again."

As they looked on a Vampire shoved his head through the ground, made a snarl and attempted to pull himself the rest of the way out; he couldn't do it, "Damn it! I don't suppose one of you three could help me out?"

Willow, with a flick of her wrist, raises the flailing vampire into the air and Buffy dusts him.

"Xander was right."

"Go me!"

"Alright, I'm going home now. Willow, you have gotten really good at this magic stuff, I should take you along on these patrols more often. Well, maybe not, that might make Tara angry and then Dawn'll be pissed at me."

Xander and Willow share a look pregnant with ominousness.

Giles notices this, sighs inwardly, and says, "There are a lot more demons left to face."

Then he follows Buffy, Xander and Willow as they walk away bickering like friends from the cemetery leaving Spike behind, watching them disappear into the night.

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A/N: Now it's finished, I hope you liked it.


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